50 ways to grow a SeeD
by ButtonWolf
Summary: 50 themes challenge: Seifer centric. Posting in sets of 5 drabbles. Rated high for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Author note: I've been writing these for a while and had them stashed away on my laptop... alas, a few months ago said laptop died a death, and took all of my files with it. Luckily, i had this fic mostly backed up but losing a set of five drabbles annoyed me to the point where i havnt written another since. So, while i was going to wait until i'd finished all 50 prompts to post this... i was hoping posting them now would help me get back on the wagon! I have almost 30 done so far, and i'll be posting in sets of five when i remember/can be bothered.

Some of these follow on from each other, some dont... but they are all in the same universe and i'm trying to keep them all relatively linked.

Reviews/Crit is always welcome and Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Making History<strong>

It didn't matter what happened after the war, if he won or lost. Nothing mattered but the dreamy curtain that had been pulled over his subconscious, nothing mattered but her voice. Not the constant pounding in his ears, or the guilt, or the shame. Not the irritating buzzing of his friends, or the never ending slaughter.

They came time and time again, and he died over and over only to be wrenched back into his weary body. It hurt. It was agony.

But it didn't matter.

With the tendrils of her power leeching his brain, Seifer Almasy would make history.

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><p><strong>Rivalry<strong>

When he arrived back on Garden's doorstep after almost a year of being classed MIA, battered, thin and weary, Seifer Almasy expected to be imprisoned, charged and hung. What he wasn't prepared for was the welcome, the worry they had had for him, the love. It was too much, and he took to his rooms for months, waiting for it to happen.

Waiting for an end that they wouldn't give him.

Everything that came before was turned upside down, and even the rivalry that he had lived and breathed was nothing more than a trivial daydream.

His punishment was clear.

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><p><strong>Obsession<strong>

It became routine, or obsession, whatever you could call it. Waiting silently there for him to walk past and scowl and spit vitriol and stomp away again like an angry Moomba.

He was the only part of the past that hadn't changed, hadn't evolved past him and left him behind with his patchy memories in the empty dark. He treated him just the same.

So it was routine, or obsession, to stand and wait and smirk the old smirk as he wandered by, and whisper ridiculous nicknames across the hall, even if the old subtle undertone of malice was gone.

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><p><strong>Eternity<strong>

The first time Zell Dincht considered that he might be becoming friends with Seifer Almasy, he was on mission, as far from Balamb as it was possible to be.

He missed him.

He missed the biting remarks. He missed the arrogant smirk. Mostly he missed the promise that even when everyone else complained he was loud and annoying, someone cared enough to always pay attention, even if it was negative.

He even fancied he missed his stupid face.

The week dragged on like an eternity, yet when he returned to that smirking glare, it felt like no time at all.

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><p><strong>Failure<strong>

By the time Squall finally got around to re-admitting Seifer into normal classes, he'd been back almost six months. He was healthier, had gained weight, and Hyperion had been recovered and repaired, so really there was no more excuse. Still, it was a miserable process.

For hours they sat in a cold office, sorting through paperwork, filling forms, going through every single last one of Seifer's previous failures with a fine toothed comb until finally he was given a timetable.

"If you learn to do as you're told… There is no reason for you to fail."

"That's the hard part."

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><p>Parts 6-10 coming soon!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Dead Wrong **

He'd thought once that the orphanage gang hated him. He'd really truly believed it, because he'd never given any of them cause not to. Seifer was many things, and proud was at the top of the list. He was so very wrong.

First Zell wormed his way into his everyday routine, sitting with him at lunch. He clung to him like a lifeline, the only familiar thing in a different world. Then one day, he'd brought Rinoa with him, and then Selphie, and before the month was out, he had the whole lot of them chattering around him. Even Squall.

**Judgement **

Life was good. Except when it suddenly wasn't.

A gang of men from Trabia stumbled across him on the coast, on his way back from visiting Rajin and Fujin, and lucky for them he was unarmed. They set upon him with unforgiving words at first, and then the inevitable fists, and rocks, and whatever else they could grab before he could fight back. He didn't really try. In some small part of his mind, he'd already decided he deserved a much harsher judgment.

Seifer told Squall later, in medical bay three, that he'd fought back. They both heard the lie.

**Seeking Solstice**

He doesn't remember how he got the black eye, the broken nose; doesn't remember turning up at Zell's door, a plea of "Lemmie stay chicken," on his lips as he falls onto the bed.

He doesn't remember Zell's grimace or falling asleep curled so tightly against the wall that he wakes later with a fierce crick in his neck as well as a hangover.

He doesn't remember the look on Zell's face because he never sees it. Doesn't see how Zell traces lines of defeat etched so deeply even in slumber, or how Zell lays awkwardly on the edge of his bed, aware that their friendship isn't supposed to be this close but unable to even contemplate making Seifer leave.

**Excuses**

"So you gonna tell me why I woke up to your ugly face this morning?"

Seifer winced through every word at the opposite end of the table, he cradled a mug of coffee preciously. "You always this loud first thing?"

Zell grinned, "You always this wrecked?"

They sat awhile in silence. Seifer looking a little green, Zell slurping down a huge breakfast with abandon.

"I was really drunk."

"Uh-huh."

Silence.

"That's your excuse huh?"

"Yup."

Truth was, he had a good idea as to why he'd picked Zell's dorm over his own, but he wasn't about to admit to it.

**Patience **

Seifer's time passed slowly, and in such regimented segments he thought he might eventually go mad. As the weeks stretched on, sleepless nights increased and his skin sometimes hummed with nervous tension.

Soon… the Garden whispered.

Soon the classes would be over and there would be the exam and he'd either pass or fail and that would be that. The worry of not knowing what would happen if he failed once again was enough to force him into patience. He settled for the endless re-hashing of subjects he already knew, because the terrifying alternative was to face his uncertain future.


	3. Chapter 3

**Never Again**

Every time he promised himself he wouldn't go back, he found himself outside that familiar door, confronting that familiar disgruntled face. Zell's tattoo crinkled into odd shapes when he got mad, and even off his tits drunk Seifer found it fascinating.

He lay on the sheets, trying to keep focus as Zell ranted. He wasn't even listening, just watching the black lines dance on his face.

He muttered "You're gorgeous y'know…" before finally falling asleep. He'd blame it on the booze later.

Zell turned red in the gloom. "I'm never opening my door to you again, asshole!"

"W's a compliment."

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><p><strong>33%<strong>

The SeeD exam was sometimes difficult to put into practice. In peace time, the lack of any challenging missions meant cadets could sometimes be waiting years for an opportunity to present itself. When there was a suitable conflict to test the cadets with, only 33% of all students passed.

Seifer wished it was peace time. The statistic combined with his track record was enough to turn his stomach at the thought. Pretending he didn't care was becoming hard work.

Later, afterwards, he stood with the others, shuffling, looking pale, chewing fingernails. Only 33%.

Squall called his name.

He threw up.

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><p><strong>Party<strong>

The collar chafed. No one ever told him that the uniform was so damned uncomfortable. Seifer pulled at his neck for the millionth time and had his hands swatted by an equally dressed Zell.

"Quit fidgeting, this party is for you dickhead."

"Yes mother."

They lurked on the edge of the dance floor, sipping at their free champagne. Seifer was longing to duck out onto the balcony for a cigarette, while Zell bounced from foot to foot. Probably wishing he was out there with the other whirling couples, and yet unwilling to leave his side.

It was a good party.

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><p><strong>Seeing Red<strong>

Zell couldn't have anticipated the sudden rush of jealousy he'd feel at seeing Seifer laughing with some girl in a Balamb café.

His mind immediately ran in circles, processing everything from 'Since when did I care?' all the way up to a very whiny 'But he's _my_ friend!'

The few seconds of irrational anger were almost enough for him to stomp over there and break up their little date, until Irvine, forgotten beside him, rested a calming hand on his shoulder and pulled him away.

It didn't sink in until later, that their grudging friendship wasn't really grudging at all.

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><p><strong>Boundaries<strong>

Another night, another knock at the door. Zell reluctantly let him into his bed once more, and muttered the now traditional "You better not barf Almasy."

He woke to the prickling heat of breath, wrapped in strong arms at his middle. Fingers idly toyed at the edge of his shirt, gently tickling his belly.

Zell fought the instinct to bolt. Arms wrapped tighter, and a nose nuzzled into the soft hair at his nape. A change in pressure on his back finally broke Zell's tentative control, and he shot out of bed, Seifer blinking in sleepy confusion.

"Boundaries Almasy! Boundaries!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Bitter Silence**

Zell was avoiding him.

The blatancy of it was making Seifer twitchy. He was angry, at himself for letting it get to him, and at Zell for being so upset over… whatever it was he had done. Zell was nowhere to be found.

Walking around Garden became a source of tortuous anticipation. He strode across the lobby and felt his pulse quicken. He walked the corridors and his hands shook. The quad brought him out in an embarrassing flush.

Making it to his dorm every evening with no interruption was an overwhelming disappointment.

Day; an angry suspense. Night; bitter silence.

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><p><strong>Versus<strong>

Seifer had his smirk on, walls up, arrogant swagger firmly in place and it looked for all the world like he was itching to punch Squall in the face. Unusual only because it hadn't happened in a while.

"Fight me princess," Seifer spat through gritted teeth.

"Have you ever noticed you only want to spar when you're upset?"

The question surprised him, and it took a moment to process. "Why would I be upset?"

Squall seemed to contemplate for a few seconds, his grey eyes narrowing a fraction. His answer set Seifer charging at him, blade raised, eyes wild.

"Zell."

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><p><strong>Answers<strong>

The grey utilitarian cells of the disciplinary block gave a person time to contemplate, focus on the issues that made them act out in the first place. At least, that was what Squall had said as he escorted Seifer to the cell at the end.

Seifer refused to contemplate anything. When Squall returned the next morning, asking for an excuse for his behaviour, Seifer blamed it on the guilt, blamed it on the attack all those months ago, blamed it on nightmares and lingering hatred of himself. He'd rather admit to those undignified things than admit he might be pining.

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><p><strong>Reality<strong>

Two days suspension and a weeks docked pay later, Zell bounced into Seifer's room, threw himself into bed and made himself comfortable as though nothing had happened.

"Where the fuck have you been?!"

"On mission, duh… didn't I tell you?"

Seifer growled.

"Miss me?" Zell flashed a wicked grin, daring him to admit to it.

"You…" He pointed an accusing finger, but suddenly didn't know what to say. In the end he settled for shoving up against Zell in the bed, being careful with his hands and immediately fell into the first good nights sleep he'd had in a fortnight.

* * *

><p><strong>A Moment in Time<strong>

Sleepy, contented morning, hushed whispers in the pillows.

"You're getting handsy again."

He cracked an eye, squinting at the back of Zell's head. "That's not even a word."

"Is so." Zell yawned, wiggling around to face him. "Horny?"

That warranted another quick squint in the early morning gloom. "Not for you chicken."

"Hope not." Zell muttered, settling against his shoulder. "M'not into you."

"Cuddle much?" He smirked into his hair, squeezing closer as he felt Zell tense. "Wasn't complaining."

It was the easy intimacy that finally lured the confession from his lips.

"I missed you too shithead." The murmured reply.


End file.
